The more he talked about his boring topics, the more I wanted to destroy his soul. Whenever he talked I felt like there was an imaginary noose wrapped around my neck, waiting for the floor below me to finally give in.
I hated him.
I hated that he had confidence and I didn’t.
I hated that he was always happy being around me when I can’t even enjoy my own company, alone.
He was going to school; he was going to join the navy, He was going to travel
and I was jealous.
It made me hate myself because I know that where his life is going,
mine was 100 years behind.
Here I am jogging in place,
while he’s off feeling and doing things
that I don't have the ability to feel or do.